A Lost Chance at Eternal Love
by MuggleBeene
Summary: Severus Snape recounts in his diary a missed chance and proving to Lily Evans that he is her one true love. Also there's a poem of his. Written for the Teachers' Lounge Snapoetry thread. Warning: bad poetry. NOT part of the Professor Muggle series.


**A Lost Chance at Eternal Love**

_**A/N: Ok, again, NOT part of the Professor Muggle series. (I promise I'll get back to it, really. No, really.) Written for the Teacher's Lounge Snapoetry, a collection of stories that contain Hogwarts era poems by Severus Snape. Oh boy. You've been warned.**_

To my diary, you unvoiced miscreant that always takes but never gives,

Once again I sit here with the bedcurtains drawn as the day speeds to its unwavering end. How I loathe the incessant sun, the gleaming orb that does nothing but reveal in stark relief the depths of my despair. If only Dippet, that incompetent old prattler would regain some semblance of sanity and realize that Gryffindors should never be paired with Slytherins for class.

Today after Care of Magical Creatures I managed to sequester a Cornish Pixie in the voluminous folds of my robes. Later between classes I sat out by the lake and after multiple attempts at calming the little beast my tedious efforts were rewarded. He was content to sit perfectly still, and I gave him a flower to hold. Further entreaties demonstrated my mastery over his primal nature; he was a thing of beauty, just as she.

I knew she would love it. How could she not? I, Severus Leslie Snape, would show her that I am not like the other Slytherins. I am nothing like them, and inside the deep recesses of my beating heart there is scarcely any room as it is filled with love for only her, Lily Evans. In my mind's eye I knew I would prepare a little box for him, create a little room as comfortably furnished as our common room, and when she opened the box he would bow as I had taught him and give her the flower. Then she would know. She would know!

But, alas, it was not to be. Lancelot the pixie sat on a leaf, listening to the poem I have poured my very soul in for the last fortnight when that insufferable prat, that stain on Merlin's underwear, that pompous, idiotic, mentally defective excuse for a human James Potter jumped out of the tree to assault me and LANDED ON LANCELOT SQUISHING HIM UNDER HIS SHOE! I wanted to cry out, to reach forward and save him, but I knew that he had left this squalid, mortal realm for good, his tiny little soul speeding its way to the great unknown.

I will not relate the full details of the events that transpired following the pixie murder of my little friend. Suffice it to say once my trousers were restored I realized that the path to regain my dignity would be long and hard. Why is my road so treacherous? Why have I been handed this lot in life? As Potter and those imbeciles Black and Lupin left me I knew that one day I would have my revenge. Oh yes, they will be brought low and all shall see the depths of their depravity.

I buried Lancelot in a Chocolate Frog wrapper by the lake, under the shade of the tree where we had realized that mutual understanding between wizard and beast were united in a singular goal, the only goal. The love of the most beautiful thing in this nasty world, the love of Lily Evans. I recited the poem over his little grave, the poem I had intended for her.

_My heart for you will always have space_

_Despite your words you know 'tis true_

_Turn, turn again to see my face_

_As the sun brings forth the brilliant day_

_My soul is filled with thoughts of you_

_My heart for you will always have space_

_But to the soulless you've giv'n your heart away_

_And knowledge and truth ye do eschew_

_Turn, turn again to see my face_

_Hear them not! They do feebly portray_

_That lion and serpent as two are taboo_

_My heart for you will always have space_

_The inconstant will tire but I will not sway_

_In friendship first let our bonds we renew_

_Turn, turn again to see my face_

_I will love you when we've turned old and gray_

_Our lives at the end of that eternal curfew_

_My heart for you will always have space_

_Turn, turn again to see my face_

The certainty that my words would have moved her can never be doubted. She would have seen, she would have known! I must go now, diary, you mute utilitarian object of pity. I pity you as you have never seen the wind take her hair, spreading it out as if it was a crimson ribbon. And her eyes! They burn to the very quick of my soul.

Until tomorrow. I must leave you now as I have always been, the unrealized and true champion of Lily Evans' heart.


End file.
